


So Very Naughty

by driventoraulinsanity (DarkDreamsOfHannigram)



Series: Frederick's Hidden Desires: Chilton/Reader [5]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Plug, BDSM, Discipline, F/M, Femdom, Masturbation, Nipple Torture, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise Kink, Riding Crops, Verbal Humiliation, clothespins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 08:45:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2686550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkDreamsOfHannigram/pseuds/driventoraulinsanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A follow up to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/2399486">Office Visit</a>, where Frederick taped the two of you without permission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Very Naughty

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theconsciousdarkness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theconsciousdarkness/gifts).



> Happy birthday, [consciousdarkness](http://consciousdarkness.tumblr.com/). Hope this makes up for the tree roots at least a little.

You had one very distinct advantage over Frederick Chilton, and that was that he had absolutely no idea that you knew he recorded the last time you were together in his office. In fact, you deliberately allowed him to gain a false sense of security over it. A few weeks went by, of regular visits to each other’s places, where you carried on with each other as usual. Well, usual for you two, in that it consisted of tying him up quite a lot, making him get on his knees and pleasure you until you were satisfied and as many times as you wished, until you allowed him to touch you otherwise. He loved every second of it. You’d gotten him trained quite well, and many of the things you particularly liked to have him do to you, or himself, he often did without prompting, seeming to read your thoughts as to which particular act you were in the mood for at the moment. You hadn’t made a return trip to his office, though, which he was beginning to get rather whiny about.

So when about three weeks after the unapproved recording was made, you made plans to come over to his house one evening, he wasn’t remotely suspicious when you told him he was to greet you wearing nothing except the largest of the plugs you’d gotten him used to, for three hours beforehand. And to not touch himself. He’d be aching to cum by then, and you wouldn’t have even gotten started on him yet.

When he answered the door, it was one of those times he was grateful not to have any close neighbors. He did so slowly, however, double checking that it was in fact you before opening it more than a crack.

He had done as he was told, by the looks of it. His rather large cock was as hard as you’d ever seen it, and slick already with precum. He’s surely been trying to distract himself by reading or having a drink, but it had likely done little to help.

“I see you’ve been good,” you tell him, and his face lights up at the praise.

“I…I have…” he takes a step towards you, but you hold your hand out in the gesture he’d come to recognize as _No touching until I say_. He pouts momentarily, but obeys. As always.

You circle around him, and trail your hand round his hip, and over his lovely, smackable ass. He shivers at your touch, more than ready for anything you wish to give him.

“Bring me some wine before we get started, Frederick.”

Although he’s growing unsteady on his feet, he gets you a glass, and pours you a little of the rose he’s been sipping. He hands it to you, and waits, not even daring to sit without your express permission.

You drink it, slowly, watching his face all the while. He looked deliciously apprehensive. You sit back and cross your legs, revealing the tops of your stockings under your short skirt.

Upon finishing the wine, you go over to where he was standing. You pull up a chair, and retrieve the bag you’d brought with you, full of important supplies.

Handing him a length of rope, you instruct, “Tie these to the legs of the chair, then sit.”

He ran it through his fingers a few times, distracted momentarily by the thought of what was to become of this. But he does as he was told, and soon, you were fixing his legs to the chair, spread apart widely, followed by his hands behind his back.

You made sure to “accidently” brush against his skin as often as possible, leaning over him to check the ropes, and other such tormenting things. You hear him breathing in the scent of you. He was obviously achingly aroused by the time you finished.

“Please. Please touch me.”

“Do you think you deserve to be touched? After you’ve been so very _naughty_?”

“What…?”

“Surely you can’t think I didn’t notice what you did.”

“Um…” He appeared thoroughly confused, and not exactly in a position to think clearly.

“A couple of weeks ago. In your office. Weren’t you wondering why I hadn’t been back there?”

Realization crept upon his face slowly.

“You…saw me?”

“Yes, of course I did. You’re not exactly stealthy with that record button, you know. Why didn’t you ask for permission first?”

“I…just…um...”

“You’re so used to being denied. Of course I would have said yes. I love the idea of you sitting in your office, touching yourself, listening to what we were doing. You’re very loud when you do that, aren’t you? I imagine the whole hospital can hear you moaning.”

“You…don’t mind?”

“Only that you didn’t ask if it was OK. You know what that means, don’t you?”

“I should be punished?” he asks both hesitantly and hopefully.

“That’s exactly right. I don’t want to hurt you…”

You reach over and bring out the riding crop you’d hidden behind the chair. His eyes grow wide, and a shiver travels through his entire body, as you run it teasingly over his thighs, to signify that’s where you’d soon be using it.

“…so you must tell me if you’re unable to tolerate the punishment. You need a word, a safeword, that you would only say in this context. What would be a good safeword for you, Frederick?”

He said the first thing that came to his mind “Flamingo?”

You laugh a little, but it was honestly quite perfect.

“Very good. Now, there are a few other things I’m going to do to you.”

You reach down to a small cloth bag under the chair. When you show him it contained several wooden spring clothespins, he gasps and then bites his lip.

Deciding just to concentrate on one area of his chest, as this was his first time experiencing something like this, you take a relatively big pinch of flesh, and put on the first clothespin. He's staring at it, expecting it to burn him like a hot coal, so when it didn’t, he let out a breath he’d been holding in. He was unlikely to know that taking them off would be where he really felt their effects.

Clamping smaller areas was worse than larger ones; you did several large pinches, and a couple of smaller ones. He handled it well. The last one was to go on the nipple that now was surrounded by six clothespins. Since other areas had been clipped, and endorphins were rushing to the area, leaving this for the last was the best course of action. Still, he bit his lip harder at this one.

Checking in with him, you ask, “Are you OK? Remember your word?”

He nods, with a few tears streaming from his eyes.

You smooth his thick, soft hair off of his damp forehead. A little praise was in order.

“You did so well, Frederick. Taking your punishment so beautifully.”

You decide that the best way to distract him from the sensation of the clothespins was by applying a few well-placed blows to his spread thighs with the crop.

“You really were very, very naughty, weren’t you?” _Smack_.

“Yes, oh god.”

“Despite my best efforts to cultivate your depravity, you still feel the need to hide it from me.” _Smack_.

“I won’t, I won’t do it again.”

His thighs were getting quite red, and you run the tip of the instrument up to his cock, gently caressing the hard shaft with it. He knew you wouldn’t hit him there, but it certainly made him think of that, and he shudders deeply.

Sliding it up his abdomen and ribcage, you begin to gently prod at the clothespins. He became acutely aware of them from this, sucking air in through his clenched teeth every time you touched one of them.

Without a hint of warning, the crop fell upon his thighs, first one, then the other, blows falling in quick succession. He arches his back, and writhes with the sudden pain, but his cock betrayed his enjoyment of it. You were fairly certain he wouldn't need to use his safeword. This time.

Putting it aside, you wanted to keep this flood of endorphins from subsiding. Removing the clothespins was going to be a lot more intense for him than putting them on. It came as no surprise that he gasped loudly when you took off the first one. Soothing it with your tongue quickly took away the sting, and his cock was leaking substantially by the time you took the one off of his nipple, which would be the most sensitive one to do.

He was practically incoherent when you’d finished.

His head sagged almost down to his chest after you move away. His breathing was deep, but irregular, on the verge of hyperventilation. You touch his hair lovingly, a calming gesture.

You pull up another chair in front of him, and he came back to himself at your proximity.

“Frederick, are you still there?”

He almost laughed, but did manage to raise his head a few inches.

“Can you sit back? Look at me.”

He struggled, but complies. A few words croak out of his throat, dry and a bit sore from all the noises he was making.

“I...yes. I'm here. Please, I still need you to touch me.”

His distress is evident, cock throbbing between his red, open thighs.

You smile sweetly at him, and say, “Of course.”

It wasn't exactly as he'd wanted, or expected. You pour an unnecessarily large amount of very slippery lubricant over his cock, creating a lovely visual. You start by just running a finger up the underside of his considerable length, and back down again. He whines at the gentle contact, trying to raise his hips to get a little more; but the more he tries, the less contact you give him.

Soon he realizes this, and, with all the effort of will he could muster, stops moving. You reward his resolve by forming a ring with your index finger and thumb, and tightening it just slightly. As his cock is so slick, your hand slides over it easily.

A few strokes like that, and a few swipes of your thumb over the leaking head, pressing just a little into the slit. He's losing his mind. He manages to keep still, but he is totally unable to keep quiet.

Next time, you think, you'll gag him. For now you are enjoying his loud distress. Besides, you have a few questions to put to him.

“Frederick...what were you thinking about when you were in your office? I'll give you more if you are honest with me.”

“I, uh...a few things...”

“Be specific.”

“I thought of you sitting there with me. Instructing me. Telling me...ah, god...to go slower, or faster, and...”

“What else?”

“Telling me to clean off my hand afterwards...with my tongue...”

“You are just so wonderfully twisted.”

You stroke him just a little harder and faster. He's unable to keep from thrusting into your hand, but you allow it this time. Besides, you knew any time he moved, the plug still inside of him would press teasingly at his prostate, only making this worse.

“Please, I need to cum…please…”

“Soon. We’re almost done. Anything else to tell me? Something I might be doing to you?”

“There was something you talked about doing to me a while ago. I don’t know if you were serious at the time…”

“I’m always serious when it comes to doing things to you, Frederick.” You start to go a little lighter, thumb circling the head of his cock, which leaked visibly every time you touched him. “Please, go on.”

“You…ah, god…you said you’d get a strap-on, and make me get on my knees for you.”

“You’ve been thinking about that? Down on your knees, as I make you suck on it for a little while?”

A little more contact with his slick length, and words began to flow.

“Mmmm, yes, fuck….I think about you telling me how I look. I think about you telling me to get up, to lie over my desk…to stretch myself for you.”

You begin to move you hand a little faster now, feeling his cock begin to surge in your hand.

“That would look wonderful. Your long fingers opening your tight ass for me.”

“Uh…I can barely imagine…what it would be like…you holding my hips as you drive into me…please, please you have to. I want you to fuck me.”

“I think that can be arranged. See what happens when you’re honest with me? Watch my hand. See how lovely your thick cock looks in it?”

He looks down, and watches as you finally apply the pressure he’s needed this entire time, and with only two or three strokes, he’s spilling hot over your hand. You stroke him well past the point of finishing, and the sound he makes is deep, torn from his diaphragm.

Once you finally stop, he’s breathing hard, and barely conscious. Holding back on him like that, after an entire day of basically winding him up, made for an intense orgasm.

You push his shoulders back on the chair, and his eyes are open but unfocused as you untie him.

Once he finally looked at you, it was as if he had no idea what to say.

“I think we need to get you cleaned up. And I’m sure you’re quite ready to have that thing taken out of you.”

“Yes…that was…I don’t have the words to describe how that was.”

“Just imagine what it will be like when I do all the things you told me about.”

“I would really love that,” he says, the words coming out fast and almost on top of each other.

“Yes,” you say, leaning down to kiss him softly. “I rather think you will.”

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [hannibalmorelikecannibal](http://hannibalmorelikecannibal.tumblr.com/) who figured out the perfect safeword for Frederick...


End file.
